


Ignorance Is Bliss

by mydeira, Sadbhyl



Series: Responsible Adults (aka, The Menageaverse) [39]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-07
Updated: 2012-06-07
Packaged: 2017-11-07 04:39:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/426994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mydeira/pseuds/mydeira, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sadbhyl/pseuds/Sadbhyl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The interesting side effects of temporary amnesia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ignorance Is Bliss

**Author's Note:**

> Set during the episode Tabula Rasa.
> 
> Written by Mydeira, beta'd by Sadbhyl

The fact that she was there in the first place clued Joyce in to the fact that this wasn’t a typical Scooby meeting. She had only been a part of one meeting, the one when Dawn had been taken. Occasionally she was in the background when they were held at the house. But Rupert had asked her to be there today. Between Buffy’s glowering looks and the feeling she’d had for months now, she had a strong suspicion as to what the meeting was about.

“Why don’t you just jump to the chase?” Buffy said impatiently. “Tell them you’re—”

The front door burst open.

“Would you get out of my bloody way! Burnin’ up here!” Spike struggled with someone in the doorway.

The person moved out of the way, allowing Spike to stumble in. “Don’t blame me for choosing to ignore the small amount of common sense your species has.”

While the man was still in shadow, there was no mistaking the voice. Joyce felt her hackles rise.

But no one else seemed to notice him. All eyes were on Spike and his outlandish outfit, out-dated brown suit and bow tie made only more ridiculous by the floppy-eared winter hat he wore.

Ethan seemed to take advantage of the others’ distraction to slip quietly into the shop, heading behind the counter.

Joyce went over to him against her better judgment.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, her voice hushed.

He sighed heavily. “Not that I have to explain myself to you, this being a public place and all, but Rupert asked me to come. Decided to kill two birds with one stone, pick up a few things while I was here.”

“Oh,” was all she said, at a sudden loss for words. He looked tired and drawn. Resigned almost. It wasn’t that she thought he had been unaffected by recent events, but . . . He had tried to keep up the illusion of detachment and distance for so long, that seeing evidence of the opposite . . Her anger rose and drown out any sympathy. Good, he should be losing sleep. That he even dared to show his face after—

Rupert’s voice rose loud enough to make both her and Ethan turn. “Well, now that we've recovered from Spike's ... sartorial humor, I'll jump to the chase. Um ... I'm headed back to England and I plan to stay ... indefinitely.”

No, she wasn’t surprised at all.

“Well, he finally made up his bloody mind,” Ethan said, his tone flat. Joyce blinked at him. “He’s been half-packed for months now. Would have left sooner if . . .”

“Should I be thanking you, then?” she said bitterly.

“Christ, Joyce, I—no, forget it,” he shook his head. “Now if you would be so kind as to get out of my way, I can get my things and get out of yours.”

She stepped aside, just as Buffy ran to the door.

Her daughter stopped and faced the room. Voice teary, “Sorry. Everybody's sorry. I know that you guys are just trying to help ... but it's just, it's too much. And, and I, I can't take it any more. If you guys ... if you guys understood how it felt ... how it feels. It's like I'm dying, it—”

Her words were cut short as she collapsed unconscious to the floor.

Worry just barely registered before Joyce felt darkness overtake her. The last thing she felt were strong arms wrapping around her.

 

 

Her pillow was moving. Pillows didn’t move. Nor did they make a steady, quiet thumping sound. She took a deep breath to order her thoughts, which at the moment were very heavy; it was a struggle to think, like moving through a thick fog. As she did she caught a whiff of something warm, musky and utterly delicious with the faint hint of incense. The scent made her feel happy and safe, calming the panic flitting at the edges of her consciousness.

Arms were wrapped protectively around her, holding her against the body that smelled so wonderful.

Opening her eyes, she saw a man, middle aged judging by the lines that were etched across his face. A very handsome one at that. But she had no idea who he was.

Disorientation was common when you woke up. Maybe she had fainted? But why was he asleep as well? And why did they appear to be asleep on the floor of some shop? She tried to find some explanation, but none would come. She didn’t know how they had gotten there or what she had for breakfast or the town she was in or the date for that matter or . . . Sitting up, she felt strong arms drop from her shoulders. Nothing was familiar. Oh god, where was she? What—She took another deep breath, but the panic kept rising. The more she tried to remember something, anything, the more she found she didn’t know.

“Are you alright?” a voice asked, deep with a British accent.

Ok, she knew accents but not the date?

She faced the mysterious man, who she found had dark eyes.

“I . . . um, I think so, but I . . .” she trailed off.

“I don’t want to sound rude, but who are you?” he asked carefully.

“I’m . . .” she floundered. She had a name. She had to have a name. So she countered with, “Who are you?”

“Well, since it was you who were asleep on my chest, I think I have the right to ask first.”

Good point. But that really didn’t help her.

“You had your arms around me!” she blurted out. “So you must know who I am.”

His eyes narrowed in concentration. “While I would like to think I couldn’t forget a face as beautiful as yours, I really haven’t the faintest idea, madam.”

“You don’t know who you are either, do you?” she realized.

“I . . . don’t, actually.”

It was then she heard other voices, hushed and confused. So they weren’t alone. That could be a good thing, right? Maybe someone knew something.

She was about to get to her feet when a tall, brown clothed body fell on top of her.

“Oh,” the young man scrambled to his feet. “Sorry about that. Didn’t hurt you, did I?”

A bit dazed but otherwise okay, she shook her head.

“Here, let me help you up,” he offered her a hand, which she took, startled by the chill of it.

Getting to her feet, she looked over the counter and saw that there were indeed others in the shop who looked as confused as she felt.

It appeared to be a fairly young group, save for the distinguished older man with glasses. He took the initiative and addressed the group at large. “Does anyone remember anything?”

There was a general consensus in the negative.

“Well, maybe we all got ... terribly drunk and this is some sort of, uh, blackout,” he suggested.

While her head didn’t feel right, it didn’t exactly hurt either. Aside from not knowing her identity, she felt fine. So there hadn’t been any trauma that caused amnesia, physical at least. It was strange that she still seemed to know many things, as long as they weren’t personally related. It was almost like she didn’t exist as a person.

The next suggestion was even more farfetched than the group-drunken-blackout hypothesis. Apparently they were in a magic shop, and it was suggested that their predicament might be magically caused.

“Magic! Magic's all balderdash and chicanery. I'm afraid we don't know a bloody thing,” the man in the glasses echoed her opinion, more or less. “Except I seem to be British, don't I? Uh, and a man. With ... glasses. Well, that narrows it down considerably.”

“Oh he’s quick one, isn’t he?” the dark haired man beside her snickered.

“We’ll all get our memory back, and it’ll all be right as rain,” the bespectacled man spoke up.

The young man who had fallen on her snorted, “Oh, listen to Mary Poppins. He’s got his crust all stiff and upper with that nancy-boy accent. You Englishmen are always so...” he stopped finally realizing what everyone else had. “Bloody hell! Sodding, blimey, shagging, knickers, bollocks, oh God! I’m English!” he concluded disgustedly.

“Welcome to the nancy tribe,” “Mary Poppins” stated.

“It suits you both,” her sleeping companion chimed in.

“What is this, the British Invasion?” exclaimed a dark haired young man seated at a table.

There was a collective groan.

Soon the young man in the brown suit and the man with glasses began bickering about whether or not they were related. They certainly acted like it.

“What about you?” she asked her companion. “Long lost brother, or cousin?”

He laughed. “Me, related to them? Hardly.”

“You could be, for all you know.”

“Or I could be sleeping with Mr. Mary Poppins over there,” he chuckled. “God, could you imagine. He must be insufferable to live with.”

“He’s a bit stuffy, I’ll give you that, but he’s quite handsome, in a fussy sort of way,” she considered.

“And I’m not?”

“Fussy? No,” she smiled. It almost felt right, teasing this man. “I guess since I was sleeping on you, I must have found you slightly attractive.”

“Only slightly?” he pressed close and she felt her heart-rate increase. Her body seemed to know what her mind didn’t.

Someone finally hit upon the idea of checking for I.D. to figure out names and some such.

“Mary Poppins” was Rupert Giles, and seemed to run the store with his trophy wife Anya. That bothered her for some indefinable reason. Maybe Rupert had left her for the younger woman?

“Ethan Rayne,” the man next to her peered at his wallet. “Sounds pretentious. Must definitely be British.”

She grinned as she pawed through the purse next to her. There was a driver’s license. Inspecting herself in the glass case behind the counter, she saw that she was indeed the woman in the picture. “Joyce Summers. I like it.”

“It suits you, my dear,” Ethan looked over her shoulder.

“What year is it?” she asked him.

“Doesn’t matter, you look ten years younger,” he replied.

Joyce felt the color rise in her cheeks.

The girl who christened herself Joan decided to take charge, “Well, we need to figure out what's going on. We need to get help. And we have no idea what's wrong with us. I think a hospital's our best bet.”

Everyone gathered and started heading toward the door.

“Why do I feel like a lemming heading toward my death?” Ethan muttered as he walked next to her.

“You have a bright outlook on life, don’t you?” she shook her head.

Joan opened the door.

They were greeted by a man with a shark’s head and two bumpy-faced fanged companions.

Everyone screamed. Luckily, Joan was quick-thinking enough to slam the door shut. They all crouched low, Joyce leaning close to Ethan.

“Monsters are real, did we know this?” Joan asked the group at large.

Tara said quietly, “I don't know, but we n-need our memories back. We have to get to a hospital.”

Rupert threw out a suggestion, “As, uh, proprietor of a magic shop, I propose we fight them. We can use things here in the shop, you know, magic ... tricks or whatever.”

“As if we didn’t have enough trouble with no memories and demons pounding on our door, you want to go messing with things you know nothing about,” Ethan said with disgust.

“Well, what else do you fight demons with?” Rupert countered.

“How about running like hell in the opposite direction?”

“I’m with the man wanting to save his skin,” Alex jumped in eagerly.

“It’s practical,” Ethan corrected him. “We’re at a distinct disadvantage, but if this fool here wants to go play with fire, I say let him. Anyone wanting to live to see another day, I say we go check out the hospital.”

Realizing that the door wasn’t the only way in, their attackers burst through the windows at the front of the shop, making further discussion impossible.

There was pandemonium as everyone raced to the back of the shop. The demons only seemed to have eyes for Randy, one of them cornering him against a bookshelf. Joan tried to intervene but was waylaid by the other demons. Breaking free, she grabbed a piece of wood lying on the floor and went to help Randy.

“Hey! Stay away from Randy!” she shouted, plunging the wood into the demon’s back. A second later it burst into dust.

The other creatures fled to their boss and Randy bolted the door again.

“I think I know why Joan’s the boss. I’m like a superhero or something!” the girl grinned at them. “Ok, I’ve got a plan.”

And they all listened as she outlined using Randy as a distraction while the rest of them escaped through the sewers to the hospital. Even though she’d seen it with her own eyes, Joyce had trouble buying the fact that the petite blonde could hold her own against the creatures outside.

Anya stood up, “I'm not leaving the shop. I have to protect the cash register, and ... do some spells.”

This seemed to appeal to Rupert, “Oh. Well, magic might help, yes, it's worth a shot.”

“All right.” Joan conceded. “You work on that then. We need to go. Ready, Randy?”

With that she and Randy took off through the front door. The rest, excluding Rupert and Anya, headed toward the back.

Ethan pulled Joyce aside when they reached the bottom of the stairs. “This seems like a fool’s errand to me.”

“Isn’t a hospital the place to go when you’re sick?” Joyce questioned him, surprised at the sudden switch in his focus.

“Usually, yes. But can they tell us more than we already know?”

He had a point there. Still, she had to wonder why he changed his mind.

Alex noticed them lagging behind and called to them. “You guys coming?”

“No, we’re going to see if Rupert and Anya could use any help,” Joyce replied.

Shrugging, he followed the others.

“Personally, I think those two are beyond help,” Ethan started, then seeing her look, “but the more the merrier right? Besides, I have this nagging feeling that Rupert and his girl could make things worse if we left them to their own devices for too long.”

“He did seem quite eager to try magic, didn’t he?” she agreed with growing concern.

“The man doesn’t seem to posses an ounce of common sense.”

“He’s obviously suffering from a mid-life crisis,” she stated, only realizing too late how bitter she sounded.

“He certainly did a number on you,” Ethan commented, before heading up the stairs.

She set out after him. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“Apparently the bloke jilted you and you’re still sore over the matter.”

“Excuse me? But he’s probably no more than a stranger I met in the shop.”

“And do you react like this to all strange, middle-aged men with young wives?” Getting no response, “I didn’t think so.”

Lamely, “I do have amnesia, you know.”

He sighed, opening the door to the shop.

What they found was Rupert and Anya surrounded by an ever-growing legion of rabbits.

Anya was reading from a book when Joyce and Ethan entered the main shop proper, while trying to get as far away from the rabbits as was possible.

“This book made the little fluffers, and this book's gonna send 'em back. I've got it this time, okay,” she said with confidence. “‘Himble abri, abri voyon.’”

Another rabbit appeared by Rupert’s feet.

“Yes, dear,” Rupert looked to the sky in exasperation.

With a smirk, Ethan strode into the midst of the rabbits and grabbed the book from Anya. “We leave the two of you alone for not even ten minutes and you’ve already managed to find trouble.”

“Oh, and I suppose you know all about magic,” Rupert said haughtily.

“He knows to leave it well enough alone,” Joyce sniped.

“And who are you, my bloody mother?”

She turned to Ethan. “You were right, he is insufferable. If I ever was with him, it seems I finally came to my senses and left him, probably for you.”

“You left me for him?” Rupert was indignant.

“So she’s what you’ve been hiding from me this entire time! I knew there was something,” Anya cried out, teetering precariously on her chair.

Rupert backed away, stumbling over a pile of white fur. “I don’t even know this woman, dear.”

“Oh sure, that’s an original excuse. Try another one on me, Rupert!”

Joyce felt a tug on her arm, pulling her away from the arguing couple.

“While not quite the avenue I would have chosen, you did manage to distract them,” Ethan laughed. He started flipping through the book. “Probably should do something about these critters.”

“You aren’t going to read from that, are you? After all you’ve been saying tonight?”

“Someone needs to clean up the mess. Almost feels natural. Damn,” he frowned, “I must be his brother or something. Why else would I being cleaning up after him?”

“I suppose that’s what siblings do,” she said. She stood next to him so she could read the book as well. And did he ever smell good. Shaking the thoughts away, her eyes landed on a spell that could possibly work. “How about this one?” She pointed.

“It’s worth a shot,” Ethan agreed. “Fatas ... venga ... mata ... waray!”

And with that the bunnies disappeared as if they were never there at all.

“Beginner’s luck?” he looked at Joyce.

“Does it matter?”

“Not really, no.” His attention shifted to their companions. “Looks like the lovebirds have worked things out.”

And so it seemed they had, as now Rupert was bending Anya back over the table.

“Do they know they’re not alone?” she said with disgust.

“Come on, let’s give them some privacy,” Ethan led her behind some shelves.

She leaned back against the stack of books with a sigh. “I know I’m being irrational, that it shouldn’t bother me like that. And yet . . .”

“You’re human, my dear, happens to the best of us,” he smiled faintly, reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“I don’t know why you put up with me,” she leaned into his touch.

“Because you seem like a remarkable woman, Joyce. And I think I’m lucky to have you in my life.”

“You think?” she cocked her head, a slight note of teasing in the question.

“No,” he bent his head close, lips almost grazing her own, “I know.”

And he was kissing her. Gentle at first, but gradually the caress deepened. Her arms went around him, pulling him close. She couldn’t get enough. Tongue delving deeper, exploring, mapping out every inch of this new and familiar territory. They tangled and danced with each other, not giving ground to the other. There was an attraction, a connection that even loss of memory couldn’t take away.

He lifted her up then, pressing her back against the bookcase as her legs wrapped around him. The things he made her feel. They may not remember who they were, but something about this felt familiar and right.

She broke away from the kiss and looked at him, “God, Ethan, I—”

Then a wave of dizziness overtook her. It seemed to effect Ethan as well since he stumbled slightly.

It passed in a second. When it had, she remembered everything.

“Put me down!” she nearly shouted. And he complied immediately.

They stood there, looking at each other.

“How dare you,” she said with quiet disgust.

He blinked. “How dare I? Somewhere I recall reading that it takes two.”

“You took advantage of me.”

“You’d like to think that, wouldn’t you?” he said, anger putting an edge on the question. “Makes it easier for you. But why not? Go ahead, blame it on me. I’m used to it.”

A small voice argued that yes, she was being unfair to this man after everything he had been to her and done for her. But after what he had done to Buffy . . .

“You should have known better,” she said without emotion.

His eyes flashed briefly in what might have been pain, but the walls went up again just as quickly.

“What’s done is done,” he said, brushing past her. He disappeared around the corner of the bookcase. Moments later she heard the front door jangle open, then slam shut.

It used to be so simple between them, back in the beginning, before all the clutter of life and relationships got in the way. The attraction was still there. Her body ached with the interruption. A part of her wished the spell could have lasted. As frustrating as it was not knowing who she was or what her life had been, things had suddenly become so very simple. In spite of all that was between them now, Joyce missed having Ethan in her life. Things had become almost flat and monotonous. Something just clicked when they were together.

Be that as it may, too much was in the way now. And there was no way back.  



End file.
